There, I said it and I’m not sorry.
As the Oscars approach, and the buzz swirling around the so-called misogynistic snub of Greta Gerwig and Margo Robbie’s artistic contributions to the film Barbie, people are saying that said snub reaffirms what I’m being told is the film’s message about the patriarchy. But I am not buying what they are selling. And that movie is selling A LOT. However, I am willing to admit my errors or shortcomings, or whatever, so I decided to give the film another go.
Normally, when watching a movie from the comfort of my corner spot on my couch donning my over-sized sweats, I would prepare a large bowl of my homemade popcorn. But, I’m trying to cut carbs and treat myself with healthy choices, because, well, you’ve seen the bodies in this movie, right? So instead, I’m pretend eating from an empty vessel, just like Barbie.
America Ferrera—who actually was nominated by the Academy for best supporting actress, but that doesn’t count if the white women aren’t included apparently—began her career in the film “Real Women Have Curves” and the TV show “Ugly Betty” compelling Hollywood, and the rest of us schlubs, to challenge traditional beauty standards, proudly enlightening us through positive representations that reflect society rather than the ideal (aka Barbie.) However, this self-love-at-any-size-shero, has, since 2017, embraced her “true body” and “quieted her inner critic” by running triathlons and slimming down. Way down. She picked up the simple “you can do it too” hobby of running triathlons. I’m not mad at her about it, it just feels like more of the unattainable expectations that normal women are expected to aspire to.
It is Ferrera’s character, Gloria, whose speech has become the clarion cry for women everywhere, summing up the impossible expectations women face in mainstream America. Good thing Ferrera is now wearing single-digit sizes. Which, I know, is still outside the Hollywood box, so we can stomach this important message about “not being thin enough, or not being too thin” or any of the rest of that no-cal chicken soup for the soul she spews in the monologue.
Wow! I really sound like an old bitter fart. I’m not, I promise.
So, I turn on the film and…
I want to appreciate the satire that the opening scene is going for, the tongue-in-cheek re-creation of the beginning of mankind, a nod to Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A Space Odyssey. It features very young girls smashing baby dolls, thereby shattering their subjugation, freeing themselves from the chains of motherhood. I get it: there was a time when being a mother was the ONLY choice, but still, did they have to disparage it SO intensely? Motherhood is erased in Gerwig’s Barbie-world, it is presented as an antiquated, tangential and limiting life choice, offering a one-dimensional expression of the most difficult and rewarding role of my life, as the single mother of two real-world humans. This sentiment seems totally opposite from the point of view we encounter at the end of the movie (which, by the way, I think is pretty amazing and sums up motherhood pretty damn well): “We mothers stand still so our daughters can look back and see how far they’ve come.”
But I am getting ahead of myself. I’m only two minutes and 13 seconds in, I better calm down. I think I’ll take a pretend sip of my non-alcoholic beverage.
Yes, the production design and costume design (which, if you’re counting, were BOTH nominated) are meticulous and delicious. The mostly pink pastel color palette is like visual cotton candy. But, much like real cotton candy, it is just a dessert; scrumdiddlyumptious, but not a meal.
There has been MUCH hullabaloo made of Ryan Gosling’s Oscar nod for his portrayal of Ken. Honestly, I don’t think he deserved it: at best, it was a campy, over-simplified caricature, and at its worst, it was a shallow, un-grounded indulgence of an inside joke told by teenage boys. BUT, to be fair, Ken actually has the in-depth character arc that Robbie’s Stereotypical Barbie only alludes to. As Barbie and Ken quest to the “real-world”, Ken can’t keep up. He tries so hard to get her attention and prove his worth to her. She is totally unaware of his struggles. Yes, Barbie suddenly awakens with the question of her mortality, but it is Ken who is existentially abandoned and must navigate his feelings of unworthiness alone.
Ken cries, “Out there I was somebody – people respected me!” He is given two songs to sing (which he does quite well.) The lovely Gosling skillfully shows off his guitar playing skills, not to mention that 10-pack, and expertly executes two lengthy dance numbers. The “war” scene alone is over four minutes — that’s a lot of screen time — while the Barbies trick the Kens with their old-fashioned, stereotypical, feminine wiles, their smarts obfuscated, exploiting their looks and sexuality to confuse their male counterparts. But, this is a feminist film, right? I’m sorry, it is not enough for me. The Barbies using the narrow toxic male perception of women against the Kens (and thereby the patriarchy) is not enough in and of itself. I don’t accept that this is the smartest plan by what I am meant to believe is a group of women who can do anything. They aren’t liberated. They haven’t won. They’ve just succeeded within the confines they are restricted to by the patriarchy. They actively withhold themselves below the glass ceiling.
Near the end of the movie, Barbie explains to Ken, “You have to figure out who you are without me. You are not your girlfriend, you’re not your house, you’re not your mink…all the things you thought made you you, aren’t really you.” The reply is, “Ken is me. Ken is me. Ken is me.” Repeated and reverberated by all the different Kens.
Ultimately, it is through Ken’s struggle that Barbie realizes who she is and how the world should be.
Then, we’re back to Gloria – I am choosing to skip writing about the boring and predictable subplot of Gloria and her ornery teenage daughter (wait, what’s her name again?) because, well, truthfully, it was tertiary and cliché. Towards the end of the film, Gloria has the brilliant idea of a Barbie that is “Ordinary Mom Barbie” who wants (and this is a direct quote) to have, “a flattering top and [she] wants to just get through the day feeling kinda good about herself.” THAT’S what an Ordinary Mom wants out of life? Sorry, but FUCK YOU. All we want is a shirt that looks good on us and to have a day where we don’t hate ourselves? Now THAT’S misogynistic. The truth is, us Ordinary Moms want respect and autonomy and free will; to not be considered obsolete or invisible or devoid of sexuality or power, just like all the Barbies out there.
Rhea Perlman, who plays the inventor of Barbie (Ruth Handler) actually says, “Do you think the woman who invented Barbie looks like Barbie?” I don’t even want to consider what the FUCK I am supposed to glean from that?
Finally, we are at the end of the movie. Barbie has chosen to be a real woman in the real world. And what is the first thing she does? Get a job? No. Get an apartment? No. Go to school? No. She goes to the gynecologist. YUP. That’s how she embraces her humanity – through her new vagina!
I turn the movie off, I don’t even watch the credits, which I usually do in case there’s fun bloopers or extra behind-the-scenes footage. I take a real slug of my non-alcoholic beverage, because even though I am raging, I still have to live in the real world.